


me bestest mate in the whole wide world

by redreaper86



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack Sparrow - Rob Kidd, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom - A. C. Crispin
Genre: Chubby Jack Sparrow, Jack's family is awful, M/M, Mild Body Shaming, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Slash, Squabbling, Tickle Fights, Young Hector Barbossa - Freeform, Young Jack Sparrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23234662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redreaper86/pseuds/redreaper86
Summary: Jack is bored
Relationships: Hector Barbossa & Jack Sparrow, Hector Barbossa/Jack Sparrow
Kudos: 60





	me bestest mate in the whole wide world

It was another one of those Caribbean afternoons, hot, lazy and boring. Jack wanted to be on a beach relaxing on an island, but instead the _Wicked Wench_ was stuck in the doldrums somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Jack was sprawled on the huge bed in the Captain's, or Captains' cabin, voicing his complaint for the millionth time in the course of an hour that the rum was gone.

Hector was getting very annoyed with him because of it. He was sitting at the desk trying to chart a course with maps and astrolabes and charts and...things. It was a waste of time in Jack's opinion. All he ever had to do was follow the horizon and his beautiful _Wench_ took care of the rest. He voiced this opinion aloud.

Hector jerked his head like an irritated horse. He actually kind of looks like a horse, Jack thought. Leastwise, his face is long and he has a big nose like one.

"There be a bit more to bein' a captain than that, Jaaaaack..." Hector drawled out Jack's name in that condecending way he had. "You've got to know yer stars so that you can follow them to where you want to go. D'ye savvy?"

"I guess." Jack muttered, even though he didn't really. It was too hot to savvy anything today and Jack was wearing nothing but his trousers and sash. Even Hector had taken off that ridiculous double-breasted waistcoat he always wore. (Jack didn’t know how he could stand the heat of it. Maybe he just got cold easily.) His sweat was causing the shirt to stick to him and finally he tore it off, balled it up and tossed it onto the laundry heap by the door where Jack had thrown his things.

Jack noticed how skinny Hector was, something he'd never realized before, because Hector always was always wearing that heavy coat and thick woollen waistcoat. It hit Jack that maybe that was the reason his rival was always covering up with them, to hide that fact. When he leaned over the charts again, Jack saw Hector's spine plus all his ribs protrude through his bare, scarred back. Jack glanced down at his own stomach which, truth be told, was a bit pudgy from constantly indulging on his favourite snacks (bananas, peanuts, mayonnaise, cream puffs and rum, glorious rum). Still, he was no Pintel, thank Goddess.

Jack sat up, slid off of the bed and padded barefoot over to the desk up behind the chair to look over Hector's shoulder.

"What?" The latter asked, still perusing a map, his tone sharp but amused.

"Nothing." Jack replied in his chirped, most childlike tone. "Just looking. Say, Heccy?"

"Hm?"

"What are these bumpy white lines on your back?" (He knew good and well what they were.)

"Those are scars, Jack," Hector answered sweetly, as though Jack were seven years old instead of seventeen. "I got them from my time in the navy."

"Oh."

The navy. Jack had just got out of the East India Trading Company a year ago, gaining a ship and a scar of his own: the letter "P" branded into his forearm for "deliberately losing cargo:" freeing the slaves he was supposed to haul. Jack ran his fingertip along the length of the biggest scar; this one starting at the middle of Hector's right shoulder blade to his lower ribcage.

"I am trying to work." Hector said, flinching again. "Jack!"

"So work." Jack teased, brushing his fingertips against the grain of Hector's scars. "Unless this is bothering you?"

Hector braced his hands against the desk and jerked his head again, annoyed, but his shoulders were shaking with repressed laughter. "Yer on thin ice, Jack."

"Or thin skin," Jack teased, fluttering fingertips at Hector's lower ribs, causing him to shiver. "Thin _ticklish_ skin..."

"Yer a fine one to talk," Hector sneered, and Jack had to step back as Hector dragged his chair around to face him. "When just last evening Miss Smith barely even touched yer neck and ye were reduced to a blubbering mess on the deck --"

"So I'm not as good at hiding it as you are." Jack snapped, petulantly crossing his arms.

"What makes you think I be hidin' anythin'?" Hector asked. "Maybe I'm just not ticklish?"

"Maybe..." Jack deliberated, stepping forward. "But if that's the case then you won't mind if I count how many ribs you've got. Of course," he shrugged, examining his blunt, dirt caked fingernails, "if you're scared..."

That got Hector's attention. He sat up, gripped his hands behind his back and sneered. "Go on then," he said. "But just forewarning you, the more ye torment me, the more gets heaped onto your lot."

Jack smiled delightedly. "Why, Hector, darling. Was that an admission?" He couldn't say for certain but he was sure Hector gulped. 

"Get on with it, Jaaaaack." Hector smirked. "Unless ye be afraid of retaliation?"

Jack straddled Hector's lap.

"What be this?"

"I need leverage."

Hector grinned. "Oh, aye, I forgot what a short little --" here Jack dug his fingers between Hector's ribs, causing the latter to give a violent writhe and spit out an oath.

"What was that?" Jack asked with big innocent brown eyes as he scribbled his fingers down to Hector's sides, eliciting from him a cackle, then a curse. "Maybe little Heccy isn't so tough after all? Hmm?"

"Watch it, Jack," Hector hissed, wagging his chin with a wolfish smile. "Remember, I can diminish ye to a whimpering pile of giggles with but a single touch of a finger."

"Too bad, mate," Jack said, smug. Then he blinked. "Wait, no --"

In a blink of an eye, Hector snapped his head forward and liked Jack's ear. Jack shrieked and ducked his head into Hector's chest, a sad mistake, for it exposed the nape of his neck which Hector brushed his bristly chin against. Poor Jack nearly fell off of Hector's lap and might have thudded to the floor had not his rival seized him around the ribcage. Jack let out a shrill squawk at the feeling of Hector's long fingers clutching his sensitive torso.

"It be my turn now, Jack," Hector said, flashing his toothy smile which made nasty little squiggles of apprehension zap through Jack's insides, causing him to squirm and giggle from the teasing feeling even though Hector hadn't even begun to torture him yet.

"Now, now, Hector," Jack began, trying to summon all his powers of persuasion. "Let's talk about this. Captain to captain, as it were."

Jack could have kicked himself for once again getting into yet another ticklish situation with Hector, figuratively and literally.

Figuratively, because he had provoked his co-captain and now faced retaliation. Literally, because he had provoked him by tickling him and now Hector had hold of Jack and was threatening to do the same to him. Only Jack was twice as ticklish as Hector and no where near as good at hiding it.

"Oh, aye, Jaaaaack," Hector said commencing to delve his fingers into the spaces between Jack's ribs. "Talk away. What's stoppin' ye?"

"Hec-ha-ha-ha-tor!" Jack managed to squirm away and bound onto the huge bed, landing on his back only for his nemesis to pounce on him, seizing his waist and squeezing it. Jack dissolved into laughter at once, helplessly swatting at Hector's hands.

"Ooh! Yer so soft, Jack," Hector jeered, his fingers kneading at Jack's stomach non-stop much to the latter's reluctant hilarity. "'Tis like yer made of dough!"

"Shu-hut u-hup!" Jack bellowed, highly insulted but unable to convey how offended he was because he was giggling so much.

"Plump as a partridge, ye are," Hector teased as he prodded Jack's belly-flesh while the younger boy squirmed and squealed in outraged laughter. "Mayhap, I'll leave ye on an island of cannibals and they'll eat ye up!" Here he pretended to do so by blowing raspberries on Jack's stomach.

"Sto-ho-hop i-hit!" Jack screeched, grabbing the older youth's hair with one hand and seizing his shoulder with the other, close to his neck.

In a stroke of incredible luck, Hector's neck happened to be one of his worst spots and with a gurgled curse, Jack tormenter toppled over onto his back and Jack straddled him at the waist at once. 

"Let's see how you like it, Hector," Jack snapped, viciously digging his fingers between Hector's prominent ribs, nearly getting himself bucked off in the process as the other boy arched his back and let out a roar of obscenity-infused laughter. "Not all of us can be as boney as you, savvy?" Jack yelled, ruthlessly scrabbling at his enemy's ribs. "You're just scrabble bloody skinny that everybody looks fat to you, you old skeleton!"

"What?" Hector sat up and grabbed Jack's wrists to stop him. "What are ye on about?"

"Let go of me!" Jack writhed like a worm on a hook. "You said I was fat!" He was almost crying.

Hector burst out laughing. "I said no such thing, ye great silly pudding!"

"You just said it again!" Jack wailed. "And you were going to leave me all alone on an island to get eaten by cannibals!"

"That was a joke!" Hector let go of Jack's arms to cradle his face which was streaked with tears and running eyeliner. "They were all of 'em jokes!"

Jack let out a pathetic sob.

"Oh, lad..." Hector gathered the younger boy in his arms. "You really did think I was serious, then?"

"Jack murmured well against Hector's bare shoulder. "Th-they...left me...before..."

"Who did?"

"My-hic-family."

A beat passed. Then Hector sighed, his breath ruffling Jack's hair. "Well, I'd never do that to ye. Yer like the little brother I never had."

Jack lifted his head up. "Really?"

"Aye. Now clean yourself up, ye look bloody awful."

Jack picked up a hank of Hector's long hair and began wiping his eyes with it.

"Not quite what I meant -- Jack!" For Jack had just blown his nose into Hector's hair. Then he laid his head down on the older youth's shoulder as though he hadn't just used him as a human handkerchief. Hector snorted, half-annoyed, half-amused -- an emotional combination that would frequently mix for him whenever Jack was involved.

Jack looked at him sharply. "You're laughing at me."

"Of course I'm laughin' at ye," Hector told him, running his fingernails along Jack's sides causing him to shiver. "Yer ridiculous. Thinkin' yer fat. Whoever gave ye that idea?"

"Christophe."

"I always thought that French frog was a git."

" _He_ bloody drinks like a fish and eats like a horse and still stays thin as a rail," Jack complained. "And his teeth are perfect," he added in a particularly disgusted tone which made Hector laugh again.

"It's not funny!" Jack snapped, indignant that Hector wasn't taking him seriously. "My whole family compares me to him every chance they get. They're all: 'Why can't you be more like Christophe, Jackie?' 'Put down that jam tart, Jackie, you already have three gold teeth and I'm not paying for another one, do you know Christophe dosen't have a single gold tooth?' 'Christophe's way better at sword fighting than you, Jackie, you should get lessons from him.'"

"Well, ye could stand to improve yer sword fighting, Jack," Hector teased, then cackled when Jack swatted him. "Alright, so yer not anything like Christophe," he said as Jack laid his head back down on his shoulder. "Ye got a lot of good things about ye that Christophe dosen't have."

Jack raised his head to look at him. "Aye, like what?"

Hector rolled his eyes.


End file.
